


Wait For It

by Princeling



Category: Naruto
Genre: Reincarnation, oc reincarnation
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-05-30
Updated: 2016-05-30
Packaged: 2018-07-11 04:56:09
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,903
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/7029553
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Princeling/pseuds/Princeling
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The year of Kyuubi's sealing, there were an unusual number of twins born. But that's what happens when the world has to suddenly make room for three new souls reluctantly invading it. OC Reincarnation fic. "I am the one thing in life I can control [...] I'm not falling behind or running late. I'm not standing still, I am lying in wait."</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Wait For It

**Author's Note:**

> The "self-insert/original character dies in real world, gets reincarnated i Naruto universe" got really popular on fanfiction.net. I'm a fan of them myself and decided to write one too, on both ff.net and here, because why not. It's always a little nerve-wracking to put yourself out there, especially when it comes to OC-fics buuuttt whatever. I'll take a plunge.
> 
> I'm also still experimenting with the first-person POV. If it doesn't work for the majority I might change it! Just let me know.

_Death doesn't discriminate_  
_Between the sinners_  
_And the saints_  
_It takes and it takes and it takes_  
_And we keep living anyway_  
_We rise and we fall_  
_And we break_  
_And we make our mistakes_  
_And if there's a reason I'm still alive_  
_When everyone who loves me has died_  
_I'm willing to wait for it_  
_I'm willing to wait for it_

\- _Wait For It_ , Hamilton Soundtrack  
_____________________________________________________________________________________________________________

I'd always wanted adventure, off in the great wide somewhere.

(Was that a song? It sounded like it was from a song)

I think most people do. You grow up reading and watching these fantastic stories of sword fights and quests and romance and you think 'I want that. I'll be that.' You think you'll grow up and make some kind of mark on the world.

Then you do grow up. And reality sinks in. Actually _doing_ things requires money, and getting money requires a job that eats up almost all of your time that you wanted to be spending on your adventure; you can't really take time off, either, because that means _losing_ money. And that money needs to be used on other, more important things like food and rent and your medical bills when you get a migraine for the first time and whole-heartedly believe you're having a stroke or something and rush to the hospital only to find out you're a moron who just needs to invest in a pair of sunglasses.

Not that I'd know anything about that last part, of course.

But I digress.

The fact of the matter is, we're not really special, not in the great grand scheme of things. At the age of 25 I'd resigned myself to this fact and learned to do the best with what I had anyway, managing to find contentment in knowing that at the very least my life was stable and I had a couple close friends and enough money to remain content.

You know, until I died. Which was _really_ unfortunate and honestly a little rude of the universe, especially since it had happened with no warning. Even worse was the fact that it had dragged my poor friends along for the ride.

("It" I say, as if fate or destiny or whatever was responsible was some coherent, intelligent thing that had consciously made the decision to kill me like it was getting back at me for some transgression I didn't remember.)

(Honestly, I wasn't sure my friends ever truly forgave me for this, but it's too late to ask them now.)

Reincarnation was a weird thing. I believed in it, sure, but I never heard of someone holding onto past-life memories as long as I or my friends had. On all the research I had done, in my previous life, most kids forgot those memories by the time they were around 5 or 6 I think- sometimes younger, sometimes older. Still, the memories didn't stick. But mine did.

I think that's why I'm writing this now, you know? I'm getting old-really old. Old as balls.

(I can hear the groans from my friends now at referencing a meme. "Really? Seriously? _Now_? You loser." And it both makes me laugh and makes my heart ache that they're not around anymore to appreciate my bad jokes. Nostalgia can be a terrible thing.)

The memories are starting to get fuzzy and I don't want that. I never truly told anyone, not my husband or my team or my family. No one knew the whole truth, or hell, even part of it. So this is where I set the record straight so my children and husband will know after I pass.

It's cowardly, I know. I should tell everyone now, but for all my heroic deeds I am at heart a coward. I don't like the confrontation, I don't like disappointing. I don't want to face the rage and disbelief and broken trust that will come from everyone knowing I knew so much and did so little to stop it all. I regret that, I'll always regret that- But I guess this is like a confession. It won't ease anyone's hearts but my own. It's cowardly. It's selfish. And I'm doing it anyhow. Maybe by the time I meet everyone on the other side they'll have found it in them to forgive me, or maybe this will give them some level of understand or who I was, who I am, and who I've become.

Or maybe I'm just trying to justify this all.

Ah, well. I won't ask you to forgive me then. Understand, maybe. Just try to understand.

Now, it's time to start stalling. Where to begin? The beginning, I suppose. Back to before I was the "me" you know now.

I don't remember my old name.

That's a terrible way to start, I know, but I really don't. I think it started with a "K"? I don't remember. Sorry. Let's just say it was... Kara. Sure, let's go with that.

My name was (maybe) Kara and I lived in another world.

(This is possibly where you put these scrolls down and look to the next person and go, 'ah, mother really went senile in her old age, huh?' and this is also probably the part where my spirit reaches through the veil by sheer force of aggravation to smack you upside the head and tell you to keep reading.)

I lived in a place called America, in a small town in a state I won't bother mentioning because these are words that mean nothing to you. Ninja didn't exist here. I was perfectly normal and nondescript in most ways-I had pretty hair and pretty eyes, which was about as far as I went when someone asked what I liked, physically, about myself. I was 25 at the time of my death and rebirth and I was a loser. I was! There was no use denying it or trying to be ashamed by what was true.

I worked at a daycare with infants and toddlers and just lived my life day-to-day, never really striving to one goal or another. I didn't have the motivation or the care. I was content.

And oh how I'd grow to hate that word and everything that came with it.

But yes, this is a good place to start.  
__________________________________________________________________________________________________________________________

"Sleeping Beauty's at it again."

The words muttered under her coworker's breath had me glancing away from the baby in my arms, sucking hungrily on the nipple of a bottle, over the half-wall that separated the toddler and infant rooms from each other. I located 'Sleeping Beauty' quickly enough, for she was standing up and living up to her nickname- She was somehow managing to doze there despite standing, and utterly despite her duties as a caretaker.

Not that I could say much, you know? It was hard to stay awake during nap time when the kids were asleep and soft music was playing, and hard to stay awake when feeding the babies. Even I'd closed my eyes for a minute or two with a baby in my arms, but never actually _fallen asleep_. 'Sleeping Beauty' managed to do it all the time, however, and despite numerous complaints she'd yet to be fired.

My gaze shifted to Randi, the other infants teacher, and we shared an exasperated look. I rolled my eyes and shook my head, sitting up a little in my chair. The sudden irresponsible behavior suddenly had me wanting to seem more reliable.

"Liam, don't do that!' I shouted, despite not being able to see anything the toddler was doing over the wall. He gave a shriek anyway at suddenly hearing his name and 'Sleeping Beauty' jerked in surprise, opening her eyes to stare down at the three toddlers who were playing on the carpet in front of her.

"Liam's fine." She answered automatically, and I hummed noncommittally.

"It's Liam's fault." Randi said instantly, and I grinned as I instantly replied: "It's always Liam's fault. Liam's the reason we can't have nice things."

The two of us shared a look again and burst into snickers at the old inside joke, though my laughter caused a disturbance in the force- Or rather, in the baby in my arms.

"Ah, shi- Poopie." I hurriedly corrected myself, wiggling the bottle futilely in the screaming baby's mouth. "Shhh, shh! Camden, come on, don't be ridiculous- Jesus, I'm putting you outside." I grumbled as the cries reached a fever pitch.

This was how I spent my weekdays. I was a professional butt-wiper and dutifully made animal sounds at toddlers to hear them say it back or to babble about my nonsensically in a language I couldn't pretend to understand. At night and on weekends I... Well, I didn't really do anything. I was tired and just wanted to rest, you know? Once in a while coworkers or friends might ask me to hang out, but in general I declined- For the most part they'd learned to stop asking, but some would still extend a courtesy invite. Sometimes I even accepted.

But mostly I stayed at home. I scrolled tumblr, I read fics, I watch shows. "Nerd stuff."

The day wore on until finally, at 5:30, I picked myself up off the floor and brushed my pants off. "I'll see you later, Randi." I waved to the remaining teacher-poor thing still had half an hour left before the daycare closed and she could leave, but with the number of kids dropping rapidly as their parents picked up, there was no reason to keep the full staff on.

"Kalah!" My name was difficult for the toddlers to say, and the boy in front of me made a distressed noise, arms up in the air. "KALAH!" He all but shrieked and I winced, reaching down to hoist him up.

"I gotta go, okay? I gotta go home."

"Kalah." The boy pouted and wrapped his arms around my neck. I rolled my eyes a little, completely charmed, and gave him a squeeze.

"I gotta go," I repeated, putting the boy down and pausing to see if he'd demand another hug or 50 before I left. Instead he seemed to consider this and say, rather dejectedly, "Bye Kalah..." Like, somehow, I was betraying him by leaving.

_Little shit_ , I thought affectionately as he brought his hand up and blew me a kiss.

It's a little sad to think that was my last interaction with him. Even now that memory sticks out in my mind, his small body in my arms as I gave him a hug that seemed like just one goodbye hug out of the millions I'd given him before. I just didn't know it'd be so _final_.

I waved a goodbye to the remaining teachers and parroted back the typical goodbyes and 'see you tomorrow!'s as I walked to my car, checking my texts. It had taken a good week to convince my two friends to come with me for a dinner together, all three of us. Not because we were busy- we were, but all of us had jobs that ended by 5 or 5:30, so meeting up for dinner wasn't much of a problem. The problem was that Jessie and Rose _hated_ each other.

Ironic, considering who they'd later be reborn as.

They couldn't stand each other and I was the only connection between them; fortunately they were willing to put their differences aside to celebrate my birthday, even if it was a few weeks late due to a need to save up the money necessary for a big night out.

I got into my car and pulled up to the road, squinting at the oncoming cars. Was it safe to go? I was terrible at judging distances with headlights, but I was pretty sure-

In the cupholder my phone vibrated and I grabbed it absently, glancing at it as I hit the gas.

Yeah, I know. That was stupid. Not the first an certainly not the last stupid thing I ever did- Well, I suppose, in a way, it was the last stupid thing I did. In that world, at least. I knew better, I truly did, but it had happened anyhow. Mistakes, you know? I didn't know it was going to go so...

I don't want to say "Wrong." I don't view any of this as a "Wrong Choice," though I'm certain fate or whatever could have picked someone much better suited than me and my friends. But maybe that was the point. There's some quote somewhere about how everything happens for a reason, that the great aren't chosen, the chosen become great or some bullshit like that. I think, maybe, this was one of those situations. We weren't chosen because we were _already_ great; we were chosen because we had the potential to _become_.

Or maybe Fate was just really, really bored.

Either way, it happened. The three of us- Me, Jessie, and Rosie- died that night at pretty much the same time and were reborn, thankfully, at around the same time as well.

Kinda strange how that year Konoha had a strangely high number of twins born, huh?

"Kara" was the old me. I suppose she's not worth talking about as much, you'll learn more about her as I go on, because I could never fully separate the person I was from the person I became.

Inuzuka Shippo, after all, was-is- anything but ordinary.


	2. Dear Theodosia

_You will come of age with our young nation_

_We'll bleed and fight for you, we'll make it right for you_

_If we lay a strong enough foundation_

_We'll pass it on to you, we'll give the world to you_

_And you'll blow us all away…_

_Someday, someday_

_Yeah, you'll blow us all away_

_Someday, someday_

_\- Dear Theodosia,_ Hamilton Musical.  
____________________________________________________________________________________________

I wish I could tell you the start of my life was exciting. I wish I could tell you I remembered being a baby with an adult's mind, that I remembered the Kyuubi attack and how it felt.

Hell, I wish I could tell you I remembered anything! But children don't really have a sense of self-awareness until later in their lives, and just because I was reborn didn't mean I was an exception. Besides, can you imagine how traumatizing birth would be to actually remember experiencing? Or how absolutely insane I would have gone being trapped in my own head? There was a reason solitary confinement could break someone so badly.

No, it was far better for me to not remember any of that.

When I "came to," for lack of a better way to explain it, I woke up and I was 3 years old.

No, I mean I literally woke up. It was as if my past life flashed before my eyes in a dream, and I woke with a start in a slightly chilly room, a warm body pressed up against my back. There was no alarm, though I didn't know if this was because I instinctively knew where I was, or because I was simply too sleepy to process it all. The pinkish light just starting to peek through the blinds of the room told me it was morning, if barely, and my mind provided me an explanation as to who was beside me: My brother, obviously.

_Of course,_ I thought. _Bryce or Layne used to switch off and sleep with me when mom was staying with us. 'Cause we only had two rooms. That's fine._

No, not Bryce or Layne. My brother, Kiba.

Kiba?

No, that wasn't right. I didn't have a brother named Kiba. And I hadn't shared a bed with my brothers since I was 12. But I did have a brother Kiba, he was my twin, and we were sharing a bed.

I traced a slash of pink sky through a space in the curtain and tried to think.

_Pink sky in morning, shinobi take warning._ The old saying came easily to me, but- No, not shinobi. It was sailor. Sailor take warning. Shinobi? Who said _that_? Shinobi weren't real.

But that didn't make sense, because they were. They were everywhere. Mom was a shinobi, and so was big sis and-

Have you ever argued with yourself before? Like really, truly argued? My adult mind, my past memories, were smashing painfully against the world I knew as Shippo, the 3 year old daughter of Tsume Inuzuka, younger sister of Hana Inuzuka, and twin sister of Kiba Inuzuka. My brain _knew_ things about this world- it knew that shinobi existed, it knew there was an academy and a hokage and that we were in Konoha and that our sense of smell was stronger than normal shinobi, and that one day I'd go to the academy with my brother and be _awesome._

But I also knew that none of that was true. Couldn't be true. Because I wasn't Shippo, I was Kara. I was 25, not 3. I was the oldest of my siblings and never had a twin. And shinboi and hokages and all that didn't exist. They were from a made-up series I hadn't paid much attention to since leaving high school; this was ridiculous and unbelievable in all forms.

But it was true.

But it wasn't.

But it _was._

I was dead, but now I wasn't. I was Kara, but I was also Shippo, but I _couldn't_ be because _Shippo couldn't possibly exist._ Shippo had never existed. This world shouldn't exist. My body began to shake like I was freezing and the body next to be stirred.

"Sis?" A sleepy murmur in baby-voice and then sudden, much more alert: "Ship?"

I didn't answer-couldn't answer. I was 3 years old (25 years old) and having an existential crisis. The covers were thrown off and tiny hands shook my tiny shoulders, but I only curled up further and shook more.

"Mom! Mom!? Hana!" The hands left and the panicked yelling began, small feet slapping against the floorboards as he ran off for help.

Moments, mere seconds, there were hands on me, feeling my forehead. The hands were cool, too cool, and I tried to turn my head away from them.

I can't really say I remember much about this part either. I asked Kiba, years and years later, and he said I was sick from something. A stomach bug, maybe, and I just nodded and accepted that that's what their interpretation of the events were. Kiba said it had scared the hell out of him, one of his earliest memories (in retrospect I feel bad about that one), his twin suddenly crying and shaking and having no means to help. I remember he stayed with me almost that whole day though, refusing to move in quiet solidarity even though at the time I hated him and wanted him to go away.

That's rather unfair of me to say, I suppose, but it was true. In that moment, I had hated Kiba, from his presence at my side to his very existence that shouldn't have been. Which was why I hated him, like somehow this world was tied to him even when it wasn't. It's hard to explain, maybe, but I was lashing out.

I didn't move from that room nearly all day, except to use the bathroom and nibble on something to stop myself from feeling so sick to my stomach. I spent the entirety of the day in bed, trying to reshape my world view and fit it into something I could understand.

The first part of the process took about 6 hours, where I alternated between staring blankly at the wall and crying my eyes out, but during that time I managed to… Not entirely come to terms with my new reality, but I'd at least calmed down and accepted that it must be real. Not even _my_ dreams lasted this long and the hunger pains I felt were real enough. I'd pinched myself multiple times and gotten nowhere. This was… reality. Unfortunately.

Fortunately?

The remaining 6 hours had me trying to figure out what I was supposed to do now. I could clearly still remember being 25 and when I ran through my memories, they were all mostly intact to the best of my remembering abilities. I remembered matching band and ballet still. I remembered that time my college roommate and I made a 3am McDonald's run simply because we were young and we wanted chicken nuggets and we _could_.

This unfortunately sparked an hour and a half period of absolute mourning where I stewed in self-pity and thought of my ps4 and my books and the movies I hadn't watched; it went to the games I had been looking forward to, a trip to the beach with my friends when it got warmer that now I would never get to do. My family, oddly, got little focus. I don't know what it says about me or my relationship with them that I didn't think about them much here, that my mourning wasn't focused on their loss [my loss?] so much as the material things I'd have to give up.

I was not, you see, very close to my family.

Later, Kiba tells me, there was a period of time where I'd sobbed so hard I couldn't breathe, like my heart was being ripped apart and he had run away for a while because he didn't know what to do for me and hadn't been able to face this monster of a wall that had sprung up. It was an enemy he couldn't face, and so he had run from it and while I'm no psychologist or anything, I couldn't help but wonder if this had contributed somewhat to his rather reckless "throw myself headfirst and bet it with my fists until it stops being a problem" attitude had sprung up from.

(Being an Inuzuka, by nature, didn't help matters there though.)

But I digress. I sobbed and mourned my former life and after I had exhausted myself of tears, I really got to thinking. I was in the Naruto world, obviously. I was Kiba's twin, so that meant I was going to be around the Konoha… 12? Rookie 9? Whatever they were called? God.

Damn.

I wish I had gotten around to that reread after the series had ended like I kept saying I would. My knowledge of details was fuzzy at best, and completely mis-remembered at worst. There were things I was sure of, like the Uchiha Massacre and Sasuke running away. Or was he kidnapped? Shit. Okay, bad example apparently.

_Get a grip,_ I thought to myself, trying to to calm myself before I had another panic attack. _Remember how you'd start reading an old book because you couldn't remember what happened? And then when you started, you'd start remembering everything? It's going to be just like that. You won't remember until it gets closer, or happens, then you can act._

I didn't really like my logical reasoning there; it didn't make me feel better to think, 'I _could_ do something to help, but most likely I won't remember until it's too late and then I can only try to minimize the damage.' I didn't like being a hero-didn't _want_ to be-but I also didn't like sitting by and not _doing_ anything. But what would happen if I even did? I couldn't remember all the details- I knew the massacre had happened for a… more or less good reason, right? I just remembered being vaguely annoyed and amused that all those "Itachi killed them all to protect Sasuke/protect the village!" theories had been _right_. So probably I shouldn't interfere with that. Honestly, I probably shouldn't interfere with much of _anything_ because what if something worse happened? That had happened in plenty of time travel games ('Life is Strange' came to mind first), so what if stopping one thing led to… don't know, the end of the world?!

Alright. Maybe I was being a bit dramatic and that in no way helped my rising panic attack. A few deep breaths and I forced myself to calm down, but these trains of thought led to the next one: What _was_ I going to do here? Shippo didn't exist in the canon-did that mean I was going to die young, never to join in on their shenanigans? Was my presence an unnatural anomaly that the universe was going to tear itself apart trying to correct, try to eliminate me at every turn so it could right itself again?

My breath caught and became shallow again as I verged on hyperventilating. I didn't want to die- _again_ -and certainly not before I got the chance to do...anything! I was 3, physically anyhow, and my life (new life? second life?) had hardly begun!

_Stop! Just stop. Stop thinking. Stop thinking!_

I stilled myself and squeezed my eyes shut, pressing the eyes of my palms against the lids until sparks of color bloomed rapidly.

_You're stupid. Stop being stupid. If this world went through all the trouble of reincarnating you here, why would it try to take you out first thing?_

_But I'm not a main character,_ I thought back to the more logical half of my brain. _I'm not even related to a main character, not really. Kiba's a secondary one, or something. I'm not important enough to really bother with, you know? Oh. Oh wait. Maybe I'm not important enough to bother with! Just a blip._

I never thought I'd be relieved by the idea of being so insignificant, but honestly it was refreshing. It meant I didn't have to worry much, right?

That's what I told myself back then. It wasn't healthy, maybe, to just shut those tumulous emotions on lockdown, regard them as stupid, that I was stupid, and to shove them away to deal with… Well, the plan was "never." I was pretty good at that, avoiding.

_Okay. Alright. Everything will be fine. Everything will go according to whatever plan this place has. It's not in your control anyhow. If this place brought you here, it wanted you here. It's out of your hands._

The loss of dominance, being a slave to something else's whim and knowing I had no control was… freeing. I don't know how to explain it, I don't know if it even makes sense. I didn't have to worry, because I had no control. Whatever happened would happen, it wouldn't be my fault. I wouldn't have to take any blame, because it was destiny or something. Right?

Again, not a healthy mindset to have at the ripe old age of _3 years old_ , but to be fair I was dealing with 25 years of expertly avoiding responsibilities and blame on top of that.

For the first time all day, I felt myself begin to relax and unwind from my tight ball on the futon. My limbs all ached, a weariness that got to me all the way to my bones, but I felt a lot lighter than I had at the beginning of my little crisis. The door slid open, but I didn't turn to face the person on the other side.

"Ship?" Kiba's tentative voice squeaked out, and I tilted my head slightly- I still didn't look at him, but it was more acknowledgement than he'd gotten from me all day. Taking that as a good side, he slipped inside, closed the door, and jumped onto the futon with me. "Are you okay?"

I wanted to say 'no,' but honestly I didn't know. "I…" It was the first time I'd spoken aloud- the first time I was actually _hearing_ myself, and honestly I didn't sound that different from my memories of my younger self. Which was...good? I guess? God. "I don't know. I will be." That was as good as I could give, but it seemed to be enough. There's was a relieved breath and then the shuffling of the covers as Kiba snuggled under them again, pressing against my back. His arms came around me, his face pressing against the back of my neck with a happy nuzzle.

"Then I'll wait here."

I expected to be annoyed again, but I was too exhausted for that. Even if I wasn't, the feeling wouldn't have come- Shippo was Kiba's sister, and Shippo loved her brother very much; those feelings transferred easily and I felt myself relax even more. He smelled like dogs and home and felt like safety.

"...Okay."

I was Kara.

I was Shippo.

I had to remember that, these two weren't separate beings anymore, we were one and the same. My name is Shippo, and Kiba is my brother, and I loved him. I couldn't hate him for 'being,' because I had come to accept he existed now.

Exhausted, I closed my eyes and listened to the sounds of the household, really listened. The sound of dogs barking and playing, the sound of footfalls not bothering to be hidden by those I would later learn were my many cousins and the puppies who hadn't learned to walk silently like their elders.

Home. Despite everything, I was in a place I could call home. I was safe and even if I fell apart, I had a family to help put me back together.

I closed my eyes, took a deep breath, and slowly exhaled, slipping easily to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> most of the beginning chapter quotes and chapters themselves will be from the Hamilton musical, because it's flawless and if you haven't heard any of the songs from it PLEASE go do so. I think a lot can be applied to various Naruto characters and it gets me all choked up every time.
> 
> Shippo's not totally dealt with all her issues here, but she's willing to shove them aside and avoid falling apart, because it's exhausting, you know? Jessie and Rosie will appear in a couple chapters, they weren't forgotten about, but Shippo is the "main" main character here so it's all from her POV. 
> 
> This chapter is long and not much exciting happened in it I'm afraid. Oops. :(


End file.
